


Likelihoods and Improbabilities

by jessalae



Category: Fringe
Genre: Community: kink_bingo, F/F, Verbal Humiliation
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-05-12
Updated: 2012-05-12
Packaged: 2017-11-05 05:36:13
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,841
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/402997
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/jessalae/pseuds/jessalae
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>“Push me around. Tell me what to do.” Agent Dunham takes a deep, shuddering breath. “I like it.”</p>
            </blockquote>





	Likelihoods and Improbabilities

**Author's Note:**

> Written for the "humiliation (verbal)" square on my card for round four of kink bingo; originally posted on my Dreamwidth September 29th, 2011.

Astrid has run this projection — Astrid has run _all_ the projections — but the statistics never predicted things turning out quite like this.

The chances of Agent Dunham inviting her out for drinks had been low to start with. Dunham is friendly enough, yes, always ready with a smile and a good-natured quip, but she and her partners are like three peas in an impenetrable titanium pod. They are colleagues, but more than that, they are friends. With two ever-present built-in drinking buddies, Dunham doesn’t need anyone else to accompany her to the bar. At least, she didn’t, until Colonel Broyles sent Agents Francis and Lee to liaise with the Fringe unit in Baltimore on a case. It’s very unlike him, to split up the team, and it completely skews the parameters of Astrid’s statistical simulation.

It had been even more unlikely that, having invited Astrid for drinks, Agent Dunham would then ask her to come back to her apartment. Her relationship with Frank is, if possible, even more solid than her partnership with Francis and Lee. Not that Astrid would ever pry into her fellow agents’ personal lives, but the photo on the corner of Dunham’s workstation, the way her voice drops to a more sultry octave when she gets a phone call from him, the simple silver necklace that she plays with absentmindedly whenever she’s thinking… all observations indicate that she’s got it bad.

But Frank has been gone for five weeks, now, which is 48% longer than his average trip. He also hasn’t called in approximately four days. Agent Dunham is restless, waiting impatiently for new information from her partners or a message from her boyfriend. She stalks around the office, re-reading files she’s read several times already and snapping at interns when they accidentally step into her path on her way to the vending machine.

At the end of the work day, she wanders up to Astrid’s workstation, her smile tight across her face.  
“I really need to blow off some steam,” she says. “Wanna grab a drink with me?”

And that’s the beginning of the highly improbable chain of events that ends with Astrid kneeling on Agent Dunham’s bed, pleasantly tipsy and half undressed. Agent Dunham is in front of her, one pink lip caught between her teeth as she peels off Astrid’s black undershirt.

“Hey, Astrid?” she says, dipping her head down to kiss the side of Astrid’s neck. “You can keep secrets, right?”

“Yes?” Astrid says, not quite sure what Dunham is getting at, not quite sure she cares so long as Dunham keeps tonguing that spot right under Astrid’s ear.

“I mean, you’re not gonna spread this all over the office, or whatever.” Dunham runs a confident hand over the subtle tan satin of Astrid’s bra.

Astrid almost laughs. “I believe that would have been a prudent question to ask sometime earlier in the evening.” She joins Dunham in her efforts, unfastening her bra and tossing it somewhere off to the side. She pulls Dunham’s hand to her breast and leans forward to kiss her, careful, almost tentative. Dunham shudders pleasantly, her tongue flicking past Astrid’s lips. Astrid sighs and pulls away to start unbuttoning Dunham’s shirt, her fingers brushing smooth, warm skin as she works her way down.

“Yeah, well, there hasn’t been much worth telling up until now,” Dunham says. She brushes Astrid’s hands away from her shirt and put a hand on Astrid’s cheek, angling Astrid’s face up so their eyes are locked together. “Call me a slut.”

Astrid blinks. “Slut.”

“No, I mean—“ Dunham grins sheepishly in spite of herself, notes of anxiety slipping through her bravado. “While we’re doing it. Call me slut, bitch, whatever. Push me around. Tell me what to do.” She takes a deep, shuddering breath. “I like it.”

Given how unlikely this whole situation was to begin with, Astrid really isn’t that surprised that Dunham has defied her expectations once again. “You’ll let me know immediately if I say or do anything you _don’t_ like?”

“Yeah, I’ll tell you.”

Astrid thinks for a moment, running through options and probabilities in her head, then nods silently. Dunham breathes a near-silent sigh of relief and busies herself in unbuttoning her shirt.

Astrid lets her continue for a moment, watching intently, and then slaps her hands away and shoves the half-open shirt off of Dunham’s shoulders. Dunham stares at her, eyes wide.

“You’re taking too long,” Astrid says harshly. “I’d have thought a slut like you would have more practice getting out of her clothes.”

Dunham’s eyes shift slightly out of focus. “I—“

Astrid doesn’t let her finish, shoving her onto her back. “Or maybe you don’t usually bother with that,” she says. “Maybe you just do it quick and dirty in the bathroom, clothes still half-on.” She reaches for Dunham’s waistband, roughly unbuttons and unzips her slacks. “Is that how it goes?”

“Maybe,” Dunham says.

“Is that how you want it tonight?”

“Maybe,” Dunham repeats, a catch in her voice. She lifts her hips as Astrid pulls her slacks down, leaving them tangled around her ankles. Astrid shoves Dunham’s knees apart roughly, stroking up the insides of her thighs.

“Good,” Astrid says. “Because you’re not worth the effort it would take to undress you.” She rubs Dunham’s vulva through her blue cotton panties, fingering the rapidly-growing spot of moisture, then slips her fingers past the cloth and strokes until she finds Agent Dunham’s clit. Dunham grabs at the bedspread, hips canting up and forward. “Look at that,” Astrid says. “You’re _begging_ for it, and I’ve barely even gotten started.”

Her fingers work Dunham’s clit, stroking, circling, harder then softer, speeding up to a frenzied blur that makes Dunham moan and then slowing to a teasing crawl. She builds Dunham’s orgasm up to the brink, listening as her gasps become more and more frantic and watching her fingers clutch in the sheets. When Dunham is right on the edge, Astrid stops, keeping one motionless finger pressed against Dunham’s clit. Dunham groans, bucking her hips to try and get some stimulation, but Astrid just keeps the pressure steady, tormenting.

“What do you want, slut?” she demands.

“Wanna come,” Agent Dunham pants. “Please.”

“So you’re slutty _and_ stupid,” Astrid says, raising an eyebrow. “You want it so badly you can’t even form a coherent sentence. I don’t reward stupidity.” She draws her fingers out of Dunham’s panties, wringing a disappointed moan out of Dunham. “You’ll have to try harder than that.”

“I’d like to come, please,” Agent Dunham says, enunciating as clearly as she can through her labored breathing.

“Fuck that,” Astrid snaps. “I’d like to come too, but you don’t see me whining about it. Desperate bitch.” She trails her wet fingers across Dunham’s lips, smirking when Agent Dunham’s tongue flicks out. “Oh, you like that? You like the way your cunt tastes?” Astrid slides smoothly off the bed, unzipping her pants and stepping out of them and her underwear. “Let’s see how mine measures up.”

She steps back up onto the bed and looks expectantly at Agent Dunham, who seems a little bit stunned. “Turn around, bitch! Get your mouth over here.” Agent Dunham complies, crawling over until her lips brush Astrid’s vulva. “On your back,” Astrid clarifies. Agent Dunham flips around, briefly getting tangled in her disheveled clothing. Astrid shifts onto all fours, straddling Agent Dunham’s face. “All right, slut,” Astrid says. “Let’s see what you’ve got.”

Agent Dunham turns her head, kisses the inside of Astrid’s thigh, softly, then harder, with a tiny bit of teeth. She wraps her hands around the backs of Astrid’s legs, fingers cupping her ass. Her mouth finally makes its way up to Astrid’s vulva, tongue flicking between her labia, tasting where she’s already soaking wet. Dunham slicks her tongue along Astrid’s slit, once, twice, barely flicking her clit, teases around her entrance, darts inside. It’s delicious torture from a practiced tongue, and Astrid finds that her legs are beginning to shake, her body wound taut like a bowstring.

“There we go,” she says, trying to keep her voice from wavering. “Fuck, you’re good at this, bitch.” Agent Dunham hums against Astrid’s skin and begins to tongue her clit in earnest. 

“ _Very_ good,” Astrid breathes, swallowing hard. “Where’d you learn how to eat pussy like this, huh? I know you didn’t learn it from your boyfriend. Have you been running out on him, slut?” Agent Dunham’s tongue strokes in ever-tightening circles, hitting all the right angles to make Astrid’s nerves sing. “Picking up strange women in bars, fucking them up against the back wall?” Agent Dunham slips a finger inside of Astrid, moving it in time with her tongue. “Oh, fuck. You should charge for this, slut. Make yourself an honest whore.”

Astrid is rapidly approaching the edge, her arms seconds from giving way, so she shifts until she’s resting on her elbows. This has the added effect of spreading her legs wider, giving Agent Dunham that much more access to her clit, and Astrid bites down hard on her lip to keep from moaning out loud. Her face is now level with Agent Dunham’s abdomen. Astrid runs her hands over Agent Dunham’s stomach, feeling the muscles tense and relax. Agent Dunham’s thighs are still spread wide and smeared with wetness, and Astrid doesn’t have any trouble sliding two fingers inside her. She curls her fingers slightly, setting up a slow rhythm in time with the motions of Agent Dunham’s tongue, and Agent Dunham hums against her clit and presses her tongue just _there_ and Astrid’s gone, her whole body shaking as Agent Dunham continues to tongue her through the throes of her orgasm. Astrid retains just enough presence of mind to keep her fingers moving, faster now, deeper, and when her orgasm has died down into aftershocks she lowers her head and sucks on Agent Dunham’s clit, rubbing it fiercely with her tongue until Agent Dunham shouts and arches. 

When they’ve both stopped trembling, Astrid rolls away, landing with her head beside Agent Dunham’s feet. Agent Dunham groans and turns herself slowly around, kicking off the rest of her thoroughly rumpled clothing and settling back onto the pillows with a sigh.

“Did you know you had that in you?” she asks, grinning at Astrid.

“To be honest? Not entirely,” Astrid says. “I have no problem complying with most requests from my sexual partners, but I generally don’t find myself so… enthusiastic.”

“It’s always the same with you quiet ones,” Agent Dunham observes. “Give ‘em a chance, you all turn out to have a wild side.” She rolls over, throws an arm over Astrid’s stomach, and settles herself into the covers. “Makes for a great one-night stand.”

“Of course,” Astrid says, her voice perfectly calm. Agent Dunham eyes her curiously. 

“Or possibly a several-night stand,” Agent Dunham amends, and Astrid’s eyes flash just a tiny bit.

“We can discuss that in the morning,” Astrid says, curling up against Agent Dunham’s side, content to live with undefined parameters for the time being.


End file.
